


Interlude: Father and Son

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Marks [13]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 07:58:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7039693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the comment_fic prompt: "Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard +/ Any, Exposing his son to the music of Johnny Cash."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlude: Father and Son

“What are you up to?” John asked. This was the fourth time Jason had blown off video game time in favor of holing up in his room with Rodney.  
  
“It’s a surprise. You’ll love it.” Jason kissed John on the cheek and then grabbed Rodney’s wrist, dragged him into the Stargate-themed bedroom. The door closed before John could say more.  
  
The last time Jason had said those words ( _It’s a surprise. You’ll love it!_ ) in response to John’s inquiry into his secret project with Rodney, he’d received an angry phone call from Jason’s school. During science hour, Jason had produced a bag of gummi bears, bleach, an electrolytic cell, a pipe, a battery, and an old digital watch and proceeded to make a pipe bomb.  
  
“Rodney,” John called through the door, “am I going to get an angry phone call from Nancy about this?”  
  
Rodney and Grant handled the day-to-day communication between households; it went better for everyone that way. When big issues arose, though, John got phone calls from Nancy directly.  
  
“Not at all,” Rodney said. “Go, enjoy your video games.”  
  
John sat down on the sofa and fired up the latest Assassin’s Creed and had a very, very bad feeling.  
  
The bad feeling persisted for weeks. When school got out for the summer, Jason spent every free moment holed up in his room. Seeing how he was only eight, that was worrisome. He was supposed to be out in the sun, running around with the other neighborhood kids.  
  
“He’s not a teenager yet,” John said to Rodney, who’d just come downstairs from checking on Jason. “That’s not normal behavior.”  
  
“He’s not up to anything nefarious,” Rodney said.  
  
John raised his eyebrows.   
  
“No explosives are involved,” Rodney promised, and he sounded sincere enough, so John went with it.  
  
Even though John was still working at the Pentagon, he was also still a Sheppard, and after his father’s death he’d reluctantly dipped his toes back into the corporate ocean with Dave, occasionally advising the R&D division about projects that might have potential military application. His fortieth birthday was coming up, and as much as John wanted to have a small family celebration, just the three of them, he’d been in Washington long enough to understand political necessity, so he knew he’d have to go to the huge birthday party Dave was planning, the huge birthday party the airmen at the Pentagon were planning, and the only slightly less political birthday party Grant and Nancy were hosting for him. (He, Rodney, and Jason would have their own party as well, but it would be the last of the parties, and John suspected he’d be partied out by then.) So he fretted about Jason spending so much time in his room alone, went to work every day, and dreaded the approach of his birthday.  
  
Dave’s party was first. They all pulled on their best suits - John went with civvies for this event - and piled into Rodney’s car and drove down to Dave’s house. It was already bright and crowded with cars when they arrived. When the maid led them into the dining room, cheers and greetings rose up. Jason was shuffled off to the kids’ corner, where his cousins Clara and Anna were holding court. Dave clapped John on the shoulder and pressed a glass of champagne into his hand. Several scientists from R&D who were McKay fanboys crowded around Rodney and began peppering him with questions.   
  
“So, forty,” Dave said. “How does it feel?”  
  
“A little overwhelming,” John admitted. He spotted Grant and Nancy in the crowd, but they were both busy talking to Dave’s wife, Kathleen.  
  
There were gourmet petit-fours, hors d’eouvres, a chocolate fountain, a champagne pyramid, and all of the excess John had hated growing up but was now much better at tolerating. Various people, most of whom were basically strangers, shook his hand, wished him well, congratulated him, and then wandered away. John was dreading the moment when he’d have to make a speech and felt particularly betrayed when he saw Rodney, of all people, helping one of the servers set up a microphone.  
  
Rodney tapped the microphone a few times, tested it, and conversations dimmed, heads turned.

“Excellent,” Rodney said. He cleared his throat. “I know it’s traditional for the birthday boy to make a speech, something pithy that encapsulates four decades of high adventure and military heroics, but before that, we wanted to give him a present instead. And by we I mostly mean Jason, who has worked very hard on it for a long time. So, without further ado, Jason Sheppard.”  
  
There was polite applause. John caught Nancy’s gaze. She looked confused, but Grant propelled John forward, so he was at the front of the little audience that had gathered around the microphone.  
  
Jason, looking very smart in his best suit, climbed up onto the stool in front of the microphone, and Rodney handed him - a guitar. One John had never seen before.  
  
Jason slipped the strap over his head, tested the strings, and nodded.  
  
John didn’t recognize the guitar riff immediately, but then Rodney began to sing, “ _It’s not time to make a change / Just relax, take it easy…_ ”  
  
John’s throat closed. Johnny Cash. ‘Father and Son’.  
  
Jason was focused very intently on his hands, but he switched chords smoothly. He must have spent every second in his room practising.  
  
But then the verse changed, and Jason lifted his head, sang more sweetly than John had ever been able to.   
  
“ _How can I try to explain? / When I do he turns away again / It’s always been the same, same old story…_ ”  
  
Rodney took over for the father verse, and Jason sang the final son verse, and when the last notes hit the air, everyone burst into applause.  
  
Jason hopped off the stool and took a bow, and then he hesitated, unsure of what to do. John rushed over to him and knelt down, pulled him into a hug.  
  
“Hey, baby boy,” John whispered into his hair. “That was beautiful. Thank you so, so much.”  
  
Jason smiled and kissed John on the cheek. “Were you surprised? I told you that you’d love it.”  
  
“I did love it,” John said, “very much. And I was very surprised. Where did you get that guitar?”  
  
“It’s mine,” Jason said. “I earned it!”  
  
John sat back on his haunches, searched Jason’s expression, saw it was full of unadulterated joy. “Oh yeah? How’d you do that?”  
  
“Rodney paid me to check math for him,” Jason said, “and then we bought it at a pawn shop! I’ve been practising real hard. I had to hide in my room so I wouldn’t ruin the surprise.”  
  
“Your hard work really paid off,” John said. He pressed a kiss to Jason’s hair and held him tightly once more. “That’s the best birthday present in the world.”  
  
“Your birthday is always near Father’s Day, and I wanted to do something extra special,” Jason said. “I remember you told me Johnny Cash is your favorite, and Rodney was really nice about helping me.”  
  
John glanced up at Rodney, who was hovering nearby and practically vibrating with anticipation. John rose up, pulled Rodney into a slow, thorough kiss that made Jason squeak indignantly and say, “Get a room!”  
  
John pulled back, laughing, but he pressed his forehead to Rodney’s, gazed into his eyes. “Thank you so, so much.”  
  
“Happy Birthday,” Rodney whispered. “Now, I think it’s time for you to make a speech.”  
  
Indeed, someone - either Dave or Nancy - had roused a chorus of _Speech! Speech!_  
  
John swallowed hard, stepped up to the microphone, and said, “Thank you all for coming to my birthday party. There’s a lot that could be said about my forty years walking this Earth - and other planets and galaxies - but perhaps the best thing to come out of my life is what you just saw, my son and my husband, together, as a happy family. For all the good any of us can do in our short lives, the greatest good we can do is love each other. Rodney, Jason, I love you very much. Thank you.”  
  
“Happy Birthday, Daddy!” Jason said, and applause filled the room once more.


End file.
